Turkey day came and went, so did our turkeys, including my Winston, sigh. Everyone had fabulous dinner reservations at only the "best" homes! Winifred, Winston's girlfriend was a little jealous at first then sad that she was left behind but I'm sure she will be much happier? She is hanging with the girls, Clover, Chloe and the boys, Cecil and Dinner. Yes we still have Dinner, he had so many reprieves that we decided it was his destiny to be with us forever.
We did have a special request this past holiday for one of our geese, much to my delight. His name was *#@in ***hole, he had a very special place in my heart. I can not tell you how much I miss that bird, it would not be appropriate! Let's just say the other ones left are such a pleasure to be around. For some reason they are much calmer then they used to be?
Our Red Ranger that we raised Label Rouge is almost all "harvested". I'm trying out a new term as you can see. Since we no longer go to the "salon" I have to improvise. So last weekend we, (me) harvested about 40 rangers. Slowly are farm is winding down for the winter. Even if we did just receive 25 more chicks, that will grow into our little fatties that every one loves so much.
This weekend its time for a few of our ducklings to; go south for the winter and north to the Farmers Market in Schenectady. Don't worry though; we have LOTS of ducks, lots and lots. They almost breed as well as the Quail. But then nothing can breed like quail, maybe mice or rabbits? We still have lots of quail but they will be winding down also. The last 50 hatched out about 2 weeks ago and that’s if for a while, until spring. We have about 50 ready to "go", another 50 almost ready to go and then the last 50 chicks. All I see is quail when I close my eyes!
And I wonder why I wander around the house going Kill, kill ,kill….and I love animals? Yes I do and all our babies have the best care, love and land to run on until they go on their special dinner dates. We have a very tough job to do but someone has to do it. Every creature must be given thanks and the respect that they deserve, even that goose, *#@in ***hole.
We are very lucky to be part of this delicate circle of life and we give thanks to everyone who supports us and our farm.
Hope you all had a great Thanks Giving!
Susie

Smashing Pumpkins

Smashing Pumpkins, no not the band, the birds, they love to eat pumpkin. Okay I'll admit they love to eat anything but fresh pumpkins are a favorite. Every fall I collect pumpkins left over after Halloween at local farms. Then we (Bruce) store them in the basement/root cellar/dungeon. Every morning we (Bruce) toss out pumpkins in the yard for all to snack on. If any one has pumpkins and do not know what to do with them, bring em on over, toss them in the back yard and watch the show.
Along with all their pumpkin delight our birds have also been snacking on Meyer lemon rinds, quince parts, persimmon tops, apple parts (nice pre-seasoning.) By the way I have a few new jams made up as you can guess.
Also it is official, I'm BON A FIDE! I have my certificate from Cornell University stating that I've graduated from my Acidified Foods course. At least I have finally graduated from a college somewhere. I've been to four colleges, 3 majors, no degree yet. But the real point is now I can sell pickled goods, no more contraband. That was the best $400. that I ever spent and it was a very informative course. Yes Nancy, no more accidental poisonings! (duh joking) All you doctors and attorneys out there, stop rolling your eyeballs.
We have lots of new stuff going on. Bruce and I have also been selling at the Schenectady Green Market at Proctors Theatre, every other Sunday. We can now sell my Acidified foods along with my jelly, jam and we can not forget Organic Fowl (just not the chicken), I'm working on that. The Schenectady market so far has been fabulous. Lots of fun people, good food, fresh produce and I have not killed Bruce yet. Surprisingly enough we work very well together, go figure?
Dorothy, our "Mother Plucker", so named by our neighbors, has already paid for itself. This contraption looks like that thing they tossed into the clouds in Twister, hence the name Dorothy. We added on the Mother Plucker part. Yes this is our new Salon Treatment for our fowl. I won't expand on this new aspect of our lives, lets just say it's all good. Our twisted neighbors have been hanging out with us and Dorothy, "Watching". I guess we really need more to do in the hood when this is the new social event?
We all know what is coming up very soon, Turkey Day! So far my head count has been holding strong, no turkey losses. Bruce and I will be saloning on November 20th. Your birds will be ready for pick up that evening or later. They will be fresh and fine until Thanksgiving, you don't want to know how many days old meat is when you buy it in the store. If any one needs us to deliver, no problemo, we will deliver your bird.
This weekend I'm focusing on our Quail or the reduction of our quail. If any one wants fresh quail, we have PLENTY available, just let me know. I'm going to do a special deep fried southern quail myself.
Take care everyone!
Susie

It has been a long, hot, crazy summer and fall

It has been a long, crazy, busy summer and fall!!
Okay I've been slacking a little with my blog page. Life has been a whirl wind of birds. Speaking of Whirl Wind we have a new addition to the farm, Dorothy our "Mother Plucker". I'll talk about her, more, later one. Now where to begin for a recap of the past 4-5 months, sigh, how time flys (no pun intended).
Our yard is a sea of ducks, chickens, turkeys, geese, guineas and what a fun sight it is to see! Slowly over the summer we have been ramping up our duck population (home grown from my girls eggs). Nero, Quackers and Jeremiah (who we fondly call Gigandor), have contributed greatly to this effort. The sleek Cayugas gracefully graze next to the crazy, energetic Khaki Cambells, along with all those slow and watch full Muscovys. You can not sneak much past a duck but Muscovy's keep a keen eye on everything, all the time!
Nothing will put a smile on your face faster then watching ducklings darting past, chirping with their little wings flapping. The best was turning around in my work kitchen to find about half dozen ducklings that scooted into the back door and where sneaking across the room to me. As soon as I turn, noticing them, they madly jump in the air spinning around, squealing out chirps and on their giant little feet ran back out the door. This comical mass of tumbling fuzz would then stop just outside the door expecting apple or cucumber treats to be tossed to them immediately. While eating their special treats, you could then pet the little buggers as they climbed my feet or legs gobbling down any thing they could get their bills on. You have to realize this treat was for fifty, not just a few ducklings but fifty hungry, fuzzy little babies.
Then they grow up, poop everywhere, sigh.
Of course then there are my geese, the bane of my existence. These majestic creatures have finally calmed down, turning into giant, white beauties, terrorizing the yard at a slightly calmer pace. Yes, terrorize about sums it up. My lovely gentle, little goslings what would play in my lap; eat out of my hand, follow me everywhere are hoodlums. I can't wait for next spring to have more! The girls are practicing; we keep finding giant white mystery eggs all over the yard.
Our turkeys are filling out nicely, not to small, not to large. I keep giving them little pep talks and they watch me intently, probably wondering how to get my eye ball out the socket. Winston did attempt to take a chunk out of my ear, he just couldn't resist. Most days Winston a Narragansett turkey waits patiently outside the back door hoping that I will pass him special treats. Then after treats he goes for a ride around the yard on my shoulders. We also have Bourbon Reds and Sweetgrass. I'm still amazed at their feather coloring. To watch them grazing over the hillside by the grape vines, blending into the fall foliage in back ground, they almost disappear. Nature is sneaky, camouflage is a wonderful thing.
One of our most crazy and wild additions to the farm this year has been the Guineas. These energetic little birds turn up everywhere .So far the head count is 12 large guineas and 3 smaller mystery guineas. The mystery guineas are very tiny and seem to disappear a lot; lately more so? This does not bode well for this little rag tag team of tiny things. The large 12 are thriving, keeping to the yard, seeming to realize that there is safety in numbers, restraining from flying over the perimeter fencing. Yes, the yard and fields have a perimeter fencing to keep out predators. The area is so large most of our birds never wander to the farthest point of outer fencing.
All my old girls (egg layers) seem to know winter is coming. The newer hens are care free, staying out past dark, running wild with the ducklings. Not my experienced hens, they tuck themselves in long before dusk with their roosters; Zilla, Pepi, Freebird. These girls stay in the first coop that we built. Only the privileged hens or roo's are allowed to roost in this coop. All others are chased and squawked at until they vacate the premises. Eventually all the other hens go inside, roosting in the newer pens along with all the fatties (meat birds), turkeys and ducklings. Coco the only Frizzle bantam hen left goes into her "Chick Chalet", all by her lonesome. Over the summer, unfortunately her friends, Zelda and Lola were snatched away from us by a fox. It is very hard to convince independent little bantams to not venture through the fencing. I'll be heating the Chalet soon to keep Coco warm and safe on those cold winter nights.
Our Red Rangers that we raise for Label Rouge meat have decided that toes are tasty. Every time they see me, they come running like crazy, beg for treats, and then try to eat my toes when the goodies run out. Rangers are one fast, smart bird, retaining all their instinctive skills for foraging, fighting and flight when in danger. In the spring we are going to try to let them breed their own eggs for hatching. Don't tell Bruce, he will start twitching. I almost put him over the edge when we moved all the Quail breeders for the winter into the barn.
Coturnix Quail are a beautiful tiny bird with a huge breast full of delicious meat. Yes I know that’s terrible but man they taste yummy. This breed of quail can not be exposed to the freezing temperatures of the Great Northeast. Keeping them nice and cozy with extra lighting will help them to continue laying eggs through the winter. Quail are very good at doing two things, first is eating and the other I'm sure you can figure out, crazy little birds. Did I mention we have lots of Quail Eggs and Meat???
At this time the barn is over run with tiny field mice, which I'm remedying at this moment with traps. Chester our new kitten will soon be out in the barn hunting, hopefully. It seems Herman our four year old barn cat has decided to retire to the main house, abandoning the barn to the birds and mice. When poor Herman does go out back, he hunches his shoulders, pins his ears back and does a slow march out to the barn; with 100 plus fowl happily tagging along. For some reason this bothers Herman, of course I'm crying from laughing so hard watching this fowl spectacle, poor Hermi.
We are hunkering down, preparing for the winter, hoping it is a mild one. I could go on forever but I'll end this update for now.

More Yard Work To Be Done

No matter what we do we have help, more help then we ever need. There is always a creature underfoot, inspecting, assisting and suppervising our work. After all it has to be up to their specks but there is always one slacker.

Muscovey Permit and Regulation Update

I have received a few questions about the Muscovy duck issue and permit regulations in the U.S. I have been keeping track of what is going before the implementation date of the new regulation, since we raise our own Muscovy ducks for meat and eggs.

At this time the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is in the process of reformatting their permit regulations that became effective March 31, 2010 for the List of Migratory Bird Treaty Act. It seems they really did not realize the extent of the market for Muscovy duck meat. They are genuinely concerned with how invasive the species is in the southern states.

Lets put this in easy terms. Thanks to an article in this months Back Yard Poultry, I have the answer and actually understood what they are explaining. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service did not realize the huge market for Poultry Farmers raising domestic Muscovy's as meat or show birds. Most farmers do not know Muscovy is an invasive species to the U.S.The U.S Fish and Wildlife Service does not read Back Yard Poultry and most farmers do not read the Federal Register.
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service will not administer the new permits or enforce their new regulations. They plan to amend those regulations in the very near future. Legally we can raise and sell our Muscovy's without any issue, at this time.

If any one has more questions about this issue I can scan and send the article from Back Yard Poultry to you. They have a very good question and answer section to help explain the issue.

The Lawn Mower Pit Crew

Bruce has a new pit crew for his mower. Our baby geese get into everything. They are very curious and follow us everywhere.

More Ducklings Hatching

We have new ducklings hatching this weekend! Penelope is hatching out her 10 to 14 eggs she has been sitting on for roughly 34 days. The doors to her large private pen is now closed off from the other birds while she is going through this stressful time.

Yard Work

While I was doing a little yard work look what I raked up. There is no such thing as "a little yard work" on our farm. I'm very much Anti-Pooh which means we have to clean up "behind" everyone continuously. It is all worth while; knowing all our creatures have a clean, well fed, humane life style. Maybe a little to much "style" is going on some days, which is the fun part of our farm.

A New Crib for my Peeps

Lola, Zelda and Coco love their new Chick Chalet. Here you can see Lola doing a little gardening on her front porch. They have not had time to finish painting yet but they love the lime color on the one side that is painted. The interior is finished off in early wood chips with a roosting post and cathedral ceiling for ventilation on those hot summer days. The new heating system will keep them toasty warm in the winter also.
A few of the other hens are a little jealous but every now and then a hen will pay a unexpected visit to the Chalet, squeeze through the door and leave a house warming gift behind!

Goslings are 5 weeks old today

Our giant little babies are growin up fast. They still come running to us chirping with an occasional honk.

Bailey, the Buck mid night special

Wednesday evening 04-28-10, we lost a special member of our family, Bailey Frank Petramale Kliese. Bailey passed on to puppy heaven, a place where dogs are forever young and bones are plentiful.
Bailey's age has always been a controversy at every family gathering of the Petramale's. The only age we are positive of is that he was old and getting older. One time while I was at the vet with Bailey during a routine exam, I had mentioned how no one wants to ever play with Bailey any more except Bruce and I. The Doc explained that since he was so old, it would be like taking some ones 105 year old grandmother out to play and hope not to break her. I think It finally sank in how old he was.

It all started about 10 years ago when I met Bruce. He was renting a room from his sister in her house. She moved in with her boyfriend, leaving Bruce to tend to the dog and cat. Bailey
Frank was the dog and Tounces the driving cat was the cat. Bailey was what we called a "Buck Midnight Special". Bruce's cousin Ding had a old dog named Buck. Buck got around Athens, procreating younger versions of himself. Hence Bailey, a lab mix, the result of one of Bucks evening runs through town with the lady dogs.
The first time I met Bailey I fell in love with him and maybe Bruce too. Bailey was a slightly crazy dog with a lot of pent up energy that needed releasing. He would bark, run and act like a crazy dog all the time. Suddenly Bruce had to go into the hospital, instead of running between two houses, taking care of dogs, I brought Bailey to my house. My yard was fenced for my two dogs, K-K and Sasha. My only issue was getting Bailey accepted by Sasha or Cujo as I fondly called her. Sasha tolerated Bailey, and he was in heaven, running in and out through the dog doors doing laps around the yard. Every now and then there would be a cat chasing problem, but how else would I find out a cat can run sideways on a wood fence. I honestly didn't think something like that was possible but I guess with claws, it can be done.

Another one of Baileys issues was bolting out the front door. Every time we had company, they would open the door, Bailey would plow them over and take off up the street. Bruce or I would have to jump into the car and hope to keep him in our sites. If we could get close enough, we would attempt to entice Bailey to get in the car. Car rides ruled over anything. Bailey would sit in the back seat, head hanging out the window, biting the air the whole ride.

Eventually Bailey fit into my household of creatures as if he was born and raised there. He calmed down, the escape issues lessened and he learned not to chase the cats as much. He still barked like crazy at anything he could.

We had the opportunity to purchased the farm house where we currently live, we needed a bigger yard for our puppy's and this was the dream house we both always wanted. Now the dogs, have a 1 acre fenced in yard to run wild in.

K-K and Sasha are gone now, we still have Jake, who is 15, Max, who is 5 or 6 and Pumpkin who is 2 1/2.

For the past 5 years, Bailey and his age has been one of our topics of discussion. He's turning 17, no 18, no 19??? Who knows for sure? We are only sure of one thing, he was old and had a long, happy life with us. Bailey will be missed greatly by Bruce and I along with the lives of other people he has touched, licked and sniffed.

Turkey Chicks!

Much to our surprise, Clover had 11 chicks hatch on 04-30-10. We did not realize she had that many eggs stashed under her. So far she has been a very good mother. Cecil the dad spends the day guarding her and his chicks. He thumps his chest, fluffs his feathers and stomps his feet. Bruce thought he was having a seizure until I explained he is working very hard guarding her and the brood.

Going to the Salon

My first trip to the "Salon" with 20 birds was a tense experience. First of all I have to drive out to the mountains with the prospect of going to this place alone. The 20 birds in the back of the truck do not count as company. After a few of my experiences driving to other farms for birds, lets just say I'm a little leery, to say the least. Of course Bruce was not helpful at all. He is winding me up by telling me to "be prepared for the smell". What the heck does he mean, farm smell, animal smell, red neck smell? So now I'm picturing crazy people out of the Chain Saw Massacre movie, running around with hatchets. There would be animal bodies all over the place part and pieces here and there. He calms me down and tells me that he meant farm poopy smell.

Well what the heck, I'm used to that, so off I go to the Salon. I finally arrive at the Salon, which could pass for a combination of Deliverance and Texas Chain Saw Massacre without the body or animal parts in piles. Getting out of my truck I notice a flock of 20 or 30 geese looking at me. These were big huge white geese, all watching me very closely. The building that I need to go into is past the geese, which can be aggressive. Slowly I stroll past these creatures, talking nicely to them like that might help. Suddenly a very large Pig, from out of no where runs up to me. I don't know if you have ever seen a very large pig, person to person, without a pen, to separate you from it, I do not recommend it. Mr. Piggy came up to my waist, now the geese do not seem so bad, they don't have teeth. This behemoth sniffed me, gives a snort and goes oinking away. Now I'm almost to the building and can see nearest door that looks like it might open. The other door I just passed walking with Mr. Piggy had a lock on it.

Finally I get inside the building. It is a small room with a furnace, a door and no one in sight. Usually I'm not the type to panic but I hate going to strange places alone, especially in the mountains, on a farm, with lots of animals that could make all your body parts disappear easily. I have no choice but to go thru the next door. This door leads to a long hallway with more closed doors, oh joy. I choose to go left, entering the farthest door on my right. I'm in the right building this is the room where the animals are kept until the salon is ready for them. Now I start to relax, this is interesting, all stainless steel equipment. I start to back track to pick another door, I'm getting brave now and I can finally hear voices. Slowly I walk up to the door I picked and call out, no one answers, so I knock on it. Still there is no answer so what the heck I just open the door and peeked in. There were three men smoking and telling jokes, I walk in and introduce myself. The big guy who seems to be running the show promptly tells me to leave my birds and come back later. They will not have a chance to process them until much later in the day, telling me "that’s what your husband always does".

Now I know this is a lie, Bruce has never let out birds out of his sight. We have been warned that certain facilities will switch out the birds after they have been processed with birds of a lesser quality. Our birds are raised humanely, with an organic soy-free diet in a very well cared for environment. Most other farms do not take the care to do this, no matter what they are advertising. Believe me, we have seen these farms first hand and this place was one of them.


So now I have to act blond and yes it does help that I am a blond. Responding to Porky (the man) I tell him that "it was such a long drive, I'll just wait in my truck until he has the time to process my birds". I did bring a book with me just in case this did happen to me. Bruce warned me that he would try to convince me to leave the birds on the farm, unattended. The other two men in the room start to grumble how none of the other customers for the day have shown up yet, so why not start on my order first? Porky starts to grumble along with them and after a few minutes of this crap, he decides to process my birds first. Imagine that, I'm the only customer there (which is not comforting to me at all) and suddenly he can now process my birds first, especially after I told him that I was not leaving and would wait for them.

While cursing Bruce under my breath, I now have to figure out how to unload one hundred pounds of birds by my self. I decide to ask one of the less scary looking guys, who agrees happily to help me. Okay, I'm feeling a bit better, the first step, third steps or what ever steps are done. I've made it to the farm, made into the building, alive and now the birds are unloaded. I just have to get through the actual "processing".
The two nicer guys are the ones who do the all the dirty work, Porky keeps to him self in is room acting important. I stuck it out all the way through the whole procedure. The rooms are all cement, stainless steel and clean. The two men do a fast and excellent job, telling me how great and healthy my birds look. This I thought was a harmless comment, later I found out my response led to much entertainment for all three of them. Stupidly, I thanked them for their comments about my birds. Then I mentioned the care and feed for our birds is important to achieve the quality of flavor that our customers expect. Yes I know I'm stupid to even attempt to get this point across to these three people, in the mountains, on a farm from deliverance, where I am the only female or so I thought.

Our birds are all done, bagged, legally weighed and now I have to get the coolers out of my truck and pack them in ice for the ride home. While I'm searching to for the ice machine, much to my surprise I run into a woman working in this place. She was also out of the Chain Saw Massacre movie or was it Deliverance, I'm not sure. She was very nice and pleasant offering to help me fill the coolers with ice, as she cackled with her cigarette charred voice. This was nice to be offered help, by this point I just needed to run, run fast away and go home. The white hair, almost died a color that matched my hair color, didn't bother me too much. The missing teeth, okay, I can deal with that also, but the cigarette voice with the Long Island accent and finding out this old woman was my age, was too much. I loaded my coolers into the truck as if I was lifting empty coolers, slammed the tailgate closed ran back inside to pay Porky.

As I skidded to a stop outside the office door to catch my breath I could hear Porky and his two employees making jokes about special "flavor injections". OMG I know what they are really hinting at and now I have to go in there to pay Porky who is laughing over his lewd jokes at my expense. Now I'm really cursing Bruce out, in figuring that they will never find my body and CSI will have to be called in. Calmly I barge into the office, pretend not to know what they are talking about and ask how much I owe, pay my bill and bolt for the door. Mean while they are still making jokes and laughing harder, thinking that the stupid blond woman does not get their hilarious comments. The worst part is I do understand everything they are saying and I am a natural strawberry blond, this sucks and I'm at a dead run for my truck. Jumping into the cab I lock the doors, start the truck back it up and almost run over a strange little man driving one of those old diesel rabbits. I don't care if I have drive over the top of him, I keep moving, he stops and I swerve around the car and take off out the driveway. All I can think of is next time, if I ever have to come to this hell place again, I'm bringing my mommy with me, that way they can have two bodies to look for when they call in CSI.

Now the good part, much too every ones relief, we have a new salon to take our birds for processing. This facility is on a nice clean family run farm. No rude remarks, only intelligent, polite conversation with kind people who love their, farm, children, work and life. Some things happen for a reason, even if it is hard to see at first.

If any one would like more information about which markets are supplied by this farm, let me know. You will be shocked.

Chicken Poop Adventures

(Pepi)

(Lucy in her broody trance)
Chicken poop adventures are a daily occurrence for me. Every time I go to collect eggs, I have to crawl under one of the roosting poles to get into the nesting coop. There is usually at least one chicken and a turkey roosting on that pole. The whole time I'm telling them "don't poop on my head, don't poop on my head". Then in the coop I have to reach down under another roosting pole with 1/2 dozen chickens sleeping on it. This is the "big girl coop". While I start the chant again, "please don't poop on my head", I'm reaching into the nesting boxes, feeling for eggs, sometimes under a sleeping chicken. Many times the first thing I grab is not the prize I'm looking for.
In the last nesting box sits Lucy, my little red Cochin bantam. Maybe there will be one or two stray eggs in another nesting box where Harriet is sleeping, but the majority of eggs are laid in one sacred bottom box. Every day the girls line up 3 to 4 deep waiting to enter this sacred box. The ruckus this causes in the coop can be heard in the house with all the doors closed. Once all the eggs have been deposited, Lucy then parks herself in this box for the night hoping to claim all the eggs for her self.
I start poking around under Lucy removing 3, 4, 5 sometimes 12 eggs from beneath this tiny bird. She gives me a little peck and a squeaky protest but falls right back to sleep, egg less. The fun begins when I start out of the coop, banging my head on the poop encrusted roosting pole, where a giant turkey is resting. The turkey gives me the stink eye for the disturbance. I curse leaving the pen knowing that my day is now complete. The birds are fed, eggs picked and the poop is in my hair again….
To top off the whole daily routine of poop in my hair, that darn Bantam rooster Pepi bounces off my butt, while I'm doing the crawl into the big girls coop, then runs like hell. As if bumping my head into the poopy roost isn't enough I have Pepi jumping me when ever he can. The results of Pepi's behavior dooms him to spend time under my arm while I'm doing my barn chores. Supposedly this will show him who is boss???? Not working yet.

What is it with me and poop?

(Mr. Quackers with Petunia, Penelope and Deililah)
I had finally tracked down Muscovy female ducks for breeding. I called one of my girlfriends and offer to pick up 3 girls for her (2 of her ducks flew off) and 3 for me, only if the farm is not to scary. So it's all arranged, I'll go pick up the birds. I find the farm very easily; you could see it from the road, which is an understatement; I'm taking another trip to Deliverance and Chainsaw Massacre all over again. I pull up to the house/shack and try to decide which set of rickety stairs to climb so I can knock on the "door". Luckily someone comes out of the door and it is the woman I talked to on the phone. I have to admit she is a very pleasant and I relaxed a bit. Slowly I look around and take in the whole "farm". OMG, it's not that bad, sort of. Whew, I'm not going to be chopped up into pieces today!
There are animals everywhere. I'm seeing Ducks, Geese, Lambs, Goats, Chickens, Guineas and I'm sure there was more I did not see. They are all over the place, some in cages/shelters/pens, some loose running wild. Everyone looks healthy but let's just say I'm lucky the ground is frozen, this calmed down the farm odor. I back up my car to this one "building" (I use that term loosely) so we can start catching us some ducks! Let me tell you these people knew what they were doing. They whipped out a huge net and headed into the "building". I of course did not go into the "building" but 6 ducks were produced from this "building". Meanwhile outside, one by one the ducks were handed off to me for loading into the cage in the back of my Volvo wagon. Yes, I now notice that the cage does not have a blanket underneath it. Oh well, It won't be that bad, right? We were done in no time at all.
All the ducks are loaded; I paid for them, now I'm off to deliver Barbs 3 ducks. Right away I notice the odor they smell like dirty farm and sheep/duck poop. That’s not too bad? Then they start pooping or squirting out poop in the cage/car. The six girls are very nervous and pooping like crazy all the way to Barbs house (30 minute ride). I arrive; it is frigid and brutal cold outside. One by one I grab the ducks out of the cage. These beasties are crazy strong, flapping and kicking. Muscovy's have claws on the end of their webbed feet that now are covered in duck poop. Barb and I decide it would be better to clip these crazy girls' wings first thing, before releasing them in her yard. I'm holding the bird, smearing poop down my coat, my pants, and gloves while Barb clips the feathers. Poop flys into my hair and all over Barb as they flap, not to mention the back of my car. Then the wind would gust the feather clippings into my car so they could stick into the poop. We clipped their wings very quickly, we say our good bye's. I take my coat and gloves off; toss them onto the floor of my car. This is one memory I'm sure Barb and I will not forget easily and yes it was still fun!
I could not wait to get home and get my poopy smeared pants off and clean up. I hit the house and Bruce meets me at the door, he needed to go to the ER in Albany. Something is very wrong with one of his eyes. We toss Dimples, Daphne and Delilah into their pen, hop into the car an off we go, poop and all to Albany Med Hospital.

Pumpkin

Life has been a little crazy lately, more so then usual. Our precious little orange dog Pumpkin started a new hobby recently. Pumpkin who we lovingly call Demon, Agent Orange, Urchin, and Creature from the Orange Lagoon, Pumpinator, The Beast, seems to always find herself in trouble on a daily basis. We honestly don't know how she thinks up enough stuff to get herself into so much trouble. Maybe because she is half Beagle, very stubborn and a smarty paws. Pumpkins latest "hobby" or escapade involved her collecting eggs one by one and burying them, only to dig them up later and have a yummy snack.
Suddenly we noticed a dramatic drop in our egg production and found the chickens hiding what few eggs we could fine in odd places. For some orange reason they were afraid to lay in their nesting boxes. We found eggs all over the yard, upstairs in the barn, downstairs in the workshop, in a bucket, on a bail of open wood chips, everywhere. Not one egg was deposited in the nice nesting boxes we built for them. Then one morning Pumpkin went running up to me showing off the egg in her mouth. I tried to get her to drop it, no such luck, Pump ran off at high puppy speeds to bury her prize. Of course I followed, watched her bury the egg, and then retrieved it. This happened a few more times and then she broke an egg, discovering how yummy they are. That was it; the egg internment would only last a few hours then dug up for snack time. That short period of time in the ground must have added some special flavor.
It took us a week or so to figure out the tie between Pumpkin, the birds, the eggs disappearances and the daily egg hunts for hidden treasure. Pumpkin was stealing the eggs away while the birds were still laying them, terrifying the poor things, chasing them out of their nesting boxes. We decided to try an experiment, lock Pump in for the day and go to work. Don't worry grandma came up to let her little grand puppy outside for pee-pees.
That evening when I went out to pick eggs, there were actually a few more eggs, imagine that. Then pumpkin tried to steal an egg before I could collect it. I caught her red pawed, or should say saw her. The stinker ran off and ate her snack; after all she didn't have any eggs all day. Now we have only one choice, out came infamous "collar of shame".
Pumpkin is the sweetest dog on the planet. She charms kisses out of strangers, snuggles endlessly and has the saddest beagle face you have ever seen. But Pumpkin knows the collar of shame very well. In 25 years of having dogs I have never had to resort to the collar of shame. I hated doing this but it's either no eggs and a fat dog with egg breath or the collar of shame. She is just one stubborn girl.
Off I go to dig through my work kitchen drawes, find the collar and install it around the little orange demons neck. If looks could kill, I would have been dog food. Pump snorts, glares at me with narrowed eyes and goes off to pout in the kitchen. She is not a stupid dog, just stubborn and very smart.
The next morning, on goes the collar and we go off to do chores. I'm stepping out of the barn, guess who is trotting out of the chicken pen door, with an egg in her orange mouth. This time I've caught her red pawed! I give her the command to stop and drop the egg, no response. Then I use the warning beep on her collar, this does not faze or slow her down, she's walking off with the egg. So now I have to do it, a very low zap, she stops drops the egg and gives me the evil orange eye. We have a little chat over what she has been caught doing; she goes off to pout sitting outside the back door for the whole day.
Now realizing I have a huge problem of dog egg snatching. I hunt through the interned looking for a solution. That's when I come across a New Improved collar that responds to a transmitter. The transmitter is on the barn over the chicken door, the collar is on Pump, and hopefully this will work. She pouts then tries to go into the chicken coop, hears the beep and stops. Amazingly we have more eggs!

Fowl Update

The baby ducklings are one week old today and tomorrow, they are growing like crazy. The goslings are 5 weeks old and starting to feather out. Lucy (bantam chicken) is still siting on her eggs on our workbench in the barn, they should be hatching any minute! Clover's (turkey) eggs should hatch at the end of this week.
Over the weekend I built a Chick Chalet for Zelda, Lola and Coco to live in which will give me back my sun porch. The Chalet was build according to Lola's specifications; many funky windows, doors and a small porch. She still has to pick out the colors for the paint job.
I'm a little behind on pictures but with all the work the girls have been giving me I'm sure everyone will understand.

11 Ducklings

Ducklings are allmost all hatched

Petunia was up and about for the first time in over 48 hours. We had a chance to get a good look at her pile of iederdown covered babies, of course we did not have the stupid camera. But we did get pictures a few minutes later. We are trying not to get to close, she hisses her feathered brains out when we are near her. So now we must be patient and wait for her to show us her new brood.

Ducklings

Petunia's babies are hatching today! When I went in her pen to check on progress at 7:00am she lifted her wing to show me her first duckling. Then Petunia gently tucked the little fuzzy baby back under her wing. Now it is 3:30 pm and we are hoping there are more, which I'm sure there are. Here is a picture of the new mommy at 3:30 pm, you can just barely make out the ducklings under her.

Nesting Update

Clover our female turkey has finally "gone broody" (that means she is a sitting on her eggs). It only took her FOREVER to pick a spot! The boys are lonely, wandering around aimlessly, chirping for clover. Every now and then you can hear them outside her nest cooing to her. Once again I'm amazed at how they communicate and care for one another. When they are not cooing or wandering aimlessly, they are following me around. If I stop fast, I have a new butt ornament.

Petunia our female Muscovy duck has been sitting for 24 days. She has only 9 more to go, Muscovy eggs take longer to hatch then regular duck eggs. During this very stressful time for Petunia I have supplemented her diet with special ducky treats. Every morning and evening I whip up a tomato, apple and grain omlet with herbs and greens to help keep her strength up. While a Muscovy hen is "brooding" her eggs, they only leave the nest once a day. During that very short trip off the nest they have to drink, eat and do a few other toiletries. It is very important to make sure the hens have a supply of food and water very close to them.

Petunia has taken this treat thing one step further, she now begs for them. If I'm not fast enough doing chores, she starts squeaking, tapping her beak on her food bowl edge. Then she will only eat her treat out of my fingers, squeaking in between bites as if to tell me how good it is. Muscovy ducks are not the type to be "hand fed", more like take your hand off and eat it.

Yes I do try to give Clover special treats also but I have to say, I don't think she gets the idea. Some birds are a little smarter than others.

Lucy our little tiny red Cochin Bantam has also finally gone broody. She is in a 5 gallon pail on the work bench in our barn. She picked out the spot all by herself, sneaking in the cat door on the backside of the barn. Lucy is a very serious egg sitter. She stares blankly into space not moving a muscle on her eggs but she even understands to eat the special treats.

Gosling update

These little stinkies will be 3 weeks old on 04/12/10.
The water container behind them holds 1 gallon of water. That is how big they are!

Meat N Eggs

Okay, next Tues we are taking 20 Cornish X Barred chickens (cornish game birds) to the Salon. There are still 12 avail for sale. These are the white, plump, yummy birds you had last fall. They go for $6.50 per pound, weighing in at 2.75 to 4.5 pounds (usually) let me know what you want! Yeah!

Eggs, I have eggs, chicken eggs, duck eggs, lots of eggs every week now. If any one would like some let me know before Saturday. On Saturday I go hit my local spots and sell them ALL! Another Yeah!
Also my duck eggs or my girls duck eggs are at Black Horse Farms. Hopefully this summer I can get Chellie to carry my chicken eggs at Black Horse also, pester her for me, LOL (don't tell her I said that).

Next Month towards the end we will have 14 R/R chickens (rhode island red for you non chicken people) that are being raised Label Rouge (okay thats the European way). Slow growing, longer to raise, running wild in the yard, gourmet birds. These will be a lean, very flavorful meat bird. They will go for $7.25 per pound.

The goslings are growing, Clover and Petunia are sitting on their nest full of eggs! Soon we will have more babies... which means FRESH DUCKLING, coming soon. This time it will be Muscovy duckling avail this summer. Mmmmm yummy

Remember my creatures are raised on a SOY FREE, hand mixed diet of only the best grains, nutrients, vitamins and seed.
Take care!

The Ugly Chickling

The Ugly Chickling
When we ordered our first batch of "meat birds" I forgot to check off a box on the order form so the supplier would not send a free bird. Some places include extra birds of the same variety that you have ordered, in case there is an accidental "loss" during shipment. Other places send any old free male bird they have to cover their butts and find homes for the extra male peeps. My order arrived, 25 of the most adorable, yellow fuzzy peeps and a chipmunk. Okay it wasn't a chipmunk but it sure looked like one with a beak. It was half the size of the other peeps and twice as fast. We started calling it Freebird, wondering what the heck it was going to grow into.
Freebird would hang out with his peeps, sleeping in between or on top of them to keep nice toasty warm. The other birds grew much faster, filling out nice and plump. After all they were meant to be used for a different purpose, food. The day finally came; all of Freebird's friends had to go to the Salon. Here was this gangly half naked long legged, funny colored bird with one bent toe, all alone now. He was only 8 weeks old but his feathers didn't seem to have grown properly to completely cover his out of proportion chicken body. I figure what could I do, he will adjust to hanging with the big birds easily enough. So that was it, he was in the big bird pen with all full grown chickens.
Free's first day was pretty rough, he kept chirping, looking for his friends, avoiding all the other chickens. He was endlessly running around the pen chirping. The next day while I was cleaning the pen, I noticed he was falling asleep on his feet. Then he would awaken, jump up and start chirping. I bent over the poor little thing to see if something was wrong. Free leaped into my arms, snuggled down against my stomach and went promptly to sleep. What do I do now? There are tons of chores to be done and I have a bird sleeping in my hands. This is very odd behavior for any chicken but Freebird isn't just any old chicken.
Slowly I finished a few of my chores with this strange looking bird tucked into my coat, sleeping. When he finally woke up I did attempt to place him back on the floor of the pen. This created a ruckus, Free screeched running after me, beating him self against the chicken wire to reach me. I opened up the door he ran to me leaping at high chicken speed into my hands, again. Now I really have a new friend. I do what any other sane person would do. Go get the bird condo out of the barn, set it up on my dinning room table and deposit this gangly youngster into it. Freebird could not seem to settle down in his new surroundings. He had fresh wood chips, feed and water. Then I thought he was used to being surrounded by fat fluffy birds, sleeping in between or on them. So over to the rag bag I go and picked out a few old towels. Free now had a nice soft padded bed to rest on in the corner of his condo. This did the trick he went over, flopped down on his bed and fell fast asleep. When Chickens are young they just flop anywhere and fall asleep, as they mature they will learn to roost. This flopping bird thing can be pretty scary when you get your first batch of birds. My first experience put me in a panic, OMG a box full of dead birds, until they woke up at the sound of my screams.
Freebird's nap lasted until about dinner time then he started calling for his friends which are now very long gone. I take out another old rag towel and pick up Free to see if he will calm down a bit. The little ugly monkey happily sat in my arms snuggling into his towel and spent the evening watching TV with us. Now I'm tired, wanting to go to bed myself but what can I do with this lost little urchin? Carefully I tuck the sleepy head on his bed and put a towel over him. The towel wiggles, gives a few squawks and Free goes out cold to sleep or so I thought. As I'm leaving the room the blanked starts to pop up and down, twittering. Quietly I sneak back over tuck the towel under the edges of his bed, gently pad him down. This time it works, off to bed I go.
In the morning it was pretty cold in the house, we keep the heat low. Bruce goes downstairs first to get ready for work. He goes through the dinning room where Freebird is parked but there is no sign of Free in his cage. Of course Bruce just ignores this fact and gets ready for work. Later when he wakes me up, I ask about Free, he calmly tells me he didn't see any bird. I panic, run downstairs and start calling around for Free. That’s when the pile of towels in the corner of the cage chirp back at me with a little bob up and down. Finally out pops a head, more chirps but that’s it. Somebody is no dummy, realizing it is cold and would not come out from under his covers! We keep the house at about 50 or 55 until we can not take it any more. Obviously the bird didn't like it either.
We do our chores, toss feed and treats into Free's condo and off we go to work. He is safe in his cage, alone all day but safe and warm (sort of). I did worry all day about him being all alone in that cage until we finally arrived home. There was Free, hopping around his condo, chirping happily away to Herman who was lounging up against Free's condo. This would be the daily routine for most of the time Free spent inside growing feathers while we were at work.
In the evenings we started letting Free have run of the house with the dogs and cats. Yes it sounds crazy, that about sums it up. He would follow me everywhere, if I was out of sight there would be a loud screech. I would call out to him and he would come running to me with those large gangly feet slapping on the wood floors. You would have thought he was an ostrich hunting me down. Slap, slap, slap Screech, Slap, Slap, Slap, with four dogs and a cat joining him.
In the evenings the dogs' line up for their daily salad or veggie treats, while I'm making dinner. Now there was one extra in the line up waiting for his tiny tidbit of tomato or lettuce to be tossed to him. This would absolutely vex Pumpkin to no end. To her it was bad enough to share a throw rug or the dog bed with the featherless thing but now treats. Every chance Free had, he would snuggle up to a dog for a nice nap. Every now and then Free would try to groom the dogs, that went over like a ton of chicken poop. Sharp beak, shiny puppy eyes and floppy ears, not such a good combination but the dogs tolerated Free pretty well.
The best part was after dinner, I would get Freebird's towel, and he would hop up into my arms. Maddie would be in my lap, Pumpkin at my feet, Max squished in the chair next to me and Free on my shoulder or chest, sleeping with his beak in my ear. This routine went on for about two weeks during which Free slowly grew more feathers. I would open up the back door every now and then giving him the choice to run outside and play for a while, knowing one day he would join the flock.
That’s exactly what Freebird did. One day over the weekend, he went out to play, ran to the barn and it was much less scary to him. He was a bird, not a dog, cat or human and all those other creatures out there were just like him. He chose to stay in the barn. Though when ever I was outside doing chores Free would follow me around happily chirping, begging for neck and chin rubs. Slowly he grew into a big (very) boy bird who now "tolerates" me giving him hugs and chin rubs. He will still return the grooming, giving me kisses every now and then if I'm lucky. As you can see Freebird has grown into a incredibly beautiful rooster.

Lola and Zelda update

Lola and Zelda have been living happily on our sun porch in a chick condo. Lola has filled out into a beautiful red almost Frizzle chick. Zelda at this time is molting (shedding old feathers and growing new ones) and happily laying an egg a day. Every now and then Lola pops out a tiny egg also. Those two crazy girls are very happy, warm and tame living there. When the weather permits, they get to go outside for play time to stretch their little legs.
Little Lola is still the smart and careful one. When the other chickens come over to investigate them, she leads Zelda thru the picket fence where no one can pick on them. Whenever I’m outside those two follow me every where, they know that they can just hide behind me if one of the other hens or roosters come around. Since they have not been out in the barn for 3 months the other birds see them as outsiders, they need to slowly re-establish a "pecking order". While Lola and Zelda are out playing, I can call to them and they come running to me doing that funny little chicken trot. In the evening after a day of playing outside, I call out to them, scoop the girls up and back to their condo they go.
Lola and Zelda's condo has a nesting box and lots of room to roam around. We never close their condo door and those good girls rarely venture out. They have a play area but spend most of their time inside in their condo. In the mornings if I'm late to tell them "good morning" they will start calling out, impatiently waiting for their breakfast. Every now and then they have a visitor, Maddie or Herman. Maddie likes to climb into their condo for a visit and Herman will sit next to it. Lola and Zelda where raised around the cats so they are just part of the family to Maddie and Herman.
We never thought these little special girls would become such a big part of our life and routine. They will always need extra care, warmth, love and protection. Their special care is a small price to pay for all the joy they bring to our household.

I said dead not ten

Usually all my stupid stories usually involve the birds. But this time it's about my loving 19 year dog Bailey and my cat Tom Tom who was a hit and run victim. Don't bail out; this is not a sob story.
I register all the cats and dogs with Petsmarts website for gift cards and coupons. One day I received two Petsmart birthday gift cards in the mail. The one gift card was for Tom Tom my tailless cat. He had a tail but lost it in a squirrel fight. Or I should say it fell off in the vet's office after the fight. He was the coolest cat on the planet. The other Petsmart birthday gift card is for our lab mix Bailey who just turned 19 on 02/07/10. Bailey is a "Buck midnight special"; anyone from Athens NY will know what that is. Our friend Ding had a dog called Buck, you can figure out the rest. Bailey is mostly deaf, a little crazy and missing his tail also. He is a wonderful dog.
I take my two coupons and off I go to Petsmart for food and supplies. At the register there is a young 6 foot tall girl waiting on customers. I've seen her working here before and I know she is not the brightest puppy in the litter. We start chatting and along came the manager who is about 5'2'' and high on life. He starts rambling about how happy he is that I'm shopping at Petsmart and chose his store. Meanwhile I hand the coupons to the young lady working the register. She is very sweet but a totally blank look comes over her face. She then turns to Mr. Happy Manager to ask how to use the special Birthday coupons. Mr. Happy bounces over looks at the coupons and tells her to process them like any other coupon. He then proceeds to congratulate me on the birthday of my cat Tom Tom.
I stop for a second and think. Then I slowly say "well as a matter of fact, the cat is dead". The register girl gives me a sympathetic look; I tell her that it's okay. Mr. Happy pants manager bounces off to another register. Then I notice in line behind me there is a co-worker who tells me how sorry he is about my loss. I didn't notice that the Manager had bounced back to the register that I was at. He proceeds to ask me "How old is your cat?" I'm a little puzzled at this and respond with "He's Dead". With a big smile on his face Mr. Manager's response is "Oh that’s great!" With that the young 6 foot tall girl operating the register leans over to the 5' 2" manager and yells "Dead, She said Dead, Dead, the cat is Dead".
Now my co-worker is giggling behind me, I'm trying to suppress my smile. Mr. Happy pants manager said "Oh I thought she said ten". This starts up the register girl again yelling "NO she said Dead, not ten, Dead, it's Dead". By this point I'm laughing, trying to tell him its okay, the girl is yelling dead at him, he runs away, disappearing into the isles of Petsmart.

The Goslings are growing!

I can't believe how much they have grown over night. They are very friendly and comical trying to nibble on everything.

Barn Mayhem

When we had extremely frigid cold days I thought it would be nice to open up the barn for the birds to move around. Mayhem ensued. For some reason the Muscovy ducks head straight over to an old metal cabinet painted white. I'm sure this old thing was painted 50 or 75 years ago. The paint is flaking off like crazy where one section was exposed to water. According to my ducks, this paint is the tastiest treat on the planet. Every time I turn around, I catch them licking, nibbling EATING the paint off the cabinet and the floor. Of course I shooed them away a few 5 or 6 times.
Then I see Cecil my male turkey attempting to come down the barn stairs. He was only a few steps up but this was obviously something a turkey was not designed to do. That's when I notice Clover his hen is missing. Okay this puts me into a panic, my only breeding female turkey. Pumpkin licked the other one to death last September. I'm counting, relying on Clover to produce fertile eggs in spring.
Clover has gone all the way upstairs in the barn, which is filled with crap that a turkey could get tangled in. Not to mention the stair problem. I have now spent so much time attempting to detour the ducks from their paint fetish, Clover's egg induced wanderlust has escaped me. Upstairs, chirping, Clover was happily searching for a secret spot to nest. Yes it's a little early but every girl likes to be prepared. Slowly I herd her to a safe place to make the grab. There can be no mistakes everything is riding on this bird. Luckily she is also very tame. I dove, quickly snatched her up, Clover and I are face to face, her feet dangling down to my knees, happily she chirps at me. Making sure I had a firm but gentle grip on Clover we headed down the stairs where I deposited the wayward girl outside the barn.
Slowly I turn around to assess the barn; the ducks are back licking paint. This is it, all ducks out, and I don't care. I know that ducks will eat anything but this is just stupid. I'm herding the ducks back into the animal side of the barn and I notice Clover is making another run for the stairs… Quickly I distract her from her mission and BLOCK the stairs. A large metal garbage can is installed in Cecil and Clovers living area to hopefully entice her into doing her egg thing there. The can is not working so far but the chickens love playing in it, Clover sneaks upstairs daily, the ducks are banned from the barn for ever.

We have eight Goslings

It is very hard to get a good picture under the heat lamps

Of course my faithful assistant helped me the whole time.

Once you go quack, you never go back.

Mr. Quackers is our huge black Muscovy duck. He is a sight you have to see in person so realize how impressive he is. Muscovy's are a very strong, hardy breed of duck that can fly even though they are massive with clawed feet. Mr. Quackers has five girls (hens) to keep himself "busy", which is a sight that you do not want to ever see. As if that isn't enough he has decided to follow Clover, our Bourbon Red turkey hen everywhere in his spare romance time.
Clover is a beautiful, gentle brown eyed, long legged beauty. Maybe it's the legs that got to him or the way she struts; he is driven to have her. Now here is the problem, you try to move, dissuade, relocate, and distract a big freaky duck in love. I've been mauled by a dog, faced a rabid animal (did the shots), grew up "playing" with cows that had giant horns (we lived in the country, they were my friends) handling a duck should be easy.
I'm in the barn, Mr. Quackers has clover cornered, and he's doing his love dance. Head bobbing, tail wagging, whispering sweet ducky quacks to her ankles. Now you also have to realize the whole time, in the background there are two giant male turkeys going crazy. They see Quackers as a threat to Clover and are determined to protect her. So while I'm trying to catch Mr. Q, the two stupid boy turkeys are in full regalia, feathers spread, thumping their chests and stomping their feet. Clover is just standing there blinking her big brown eyes with that "who me" look, pheromones, what pheromones?
I dive and snatch, get Quackers by the neck and one wing, sort of. Then I attempt to reposition my hands around his neck (gently) sliding both hands down to grab him by the top of his wings. Pressing them down, clamping his wings to his body I then pick him up. Now, even the boy turkeys give me what the heck are you crazy look watch me intently. I've got him for maybe one second, out comes one wing flapping free from my arms, whacking me in the face repeatedly. I get the wing; hang on and out pops the other wing. So now I'm holding him at my chest level, by the top of his wings. He is flying while I'm holding him. I'm not letting go, he's not giving up. This is my breeding drake, I'm thinking be gentle... yeah right. Some how I get the wings back down, mid air and clamp him to my chest. That's when I realize we are face to face, so close I can look thru his nostrils and see the other side of the room. Mr. Q. must have seen the determination/fear in my eyes and he relaxed. Then I was able to carry him out of the barn. I have to give Mr. Quackers credit, he at least didn't bite my nose off or take an eye out.
Mr. Q repeated the wooing of Clover for days. I repeated my duck removal process about 5 times a day for days. Oddly Mr. Quackers and I have become very close, we have now reached some form of understanding. I just point to the door; he then exits the barn gracefully. Waits until I'm out of sight and sneaks back in.

Zilla and his spa treatments

Zilla is our giant Buff Cochin rooster. He was the "free bird" sent in the first batch of egg laying chickens that I ordered. Right away he stuck out from the other peeps. He was huge yellow and fuzzy, very fuzzy. I didn't order any large yellow fuzzy chicks. Zilla grew and grew, filled out with more buttery yellow feathers then you could ever imagine and then grew some more. When he is on his tipi chicken toes, he is close to 3 feet tall. He is my special baby, spoiled and knows his name when called. If you have never seen a chicken run, you have missed out on the funniest sight you will ever see. Now add tons of fluffy feathers and make it a giant chicken, you're ready to laugh until you cry. Zilla runs to me for his treats, which he eats out of my hand, making a burr bah burring noise the whole time. He has always done this even though he takes his roostering very serious. When ever he can, my giant Zilla will sneak thru an open door and beg for treats.
Every time some one new meets Zilla, we get the "Do you wash your bird?", "Or do you groom him?" We always answer "Yes, why yes we do wash our bird". First I hop in the shower then Bruce hands me Zilla! His feathers are beautiful that's just Zilla he does not shower with me, duh.
This winter I knew we would have to take special care of his huge cocks comb and long wattles (those things hanging off his cheeks and that giant red thing on his head). They have to be rubbed down with petroleum jelly or antibiotic gel to keep them from freezing. The time came, it was very cold, and we had to slick down Zilla's parts. Once again, we are lucky, Zilla is very tame. He will almost do anything for a treat, you just call him and he comes a running. I snatch my giant fluff ball and bring him into the spa for a visit Lola and Zelda. He is always a good boy and usually never gives a struggle when you're holding him. We start rubbing him down, thoroughly. Talk about getting the stink eye, that eye said it all, Zilla could easily shred me to bits if he so desired.
While I have him, it's a good time to check him over. Chickens can easily have foot issues, it's always good to keep an eye on them or lose an eye trying. Zilla just laid there in my arms, not moving a muscle. What a good giant beast he is. I found several feathers on his feet that were causing a problem. Bruce holds Zilla while I get the pliers. Unfortunately if I do not pull out the quills of broken off feathers, they most likely will become infected. When this is done he gets an antibiotic gel rub down on his feet and olive oil on his legs. If I was only so lucky as Zilla!
When his facial and foot massage is finished we shared a few treats and off he stomped back to his girls. Up the sidewalk, shaking off his feathers, stomping his feet every other step he took.
Our poor baby moose did get a little frost bite but needless to say he does have beautiful skin just in time for spring.